The Marlboro democrat. [volume] (Bennettsville, S.C.) 1882-1908, 1887-05-11
DOING WASHING.

~ shall charge sevcnty-lye cents for
that Swiss muslin dress, with the
douncos and tho lace Insertion" said
Rosamond Rayforth, rs she shook out
y white, fluffy mass, and pinned it deftly
on Il Limo which was stretched from a
silver-blrch tree to a tall, young noun
tain-ash. "Tt's worth more than that,
but these fashionable ladies are SO
distrcssingly parsimonious in their
idcasI7
The orange glow Of tho sunrise was
just finging it's Sheaf or r%cddening
arrows across the wooded side Of Spice
berry Mountain; the birds were whist
ling their mating songs, and tho hidden
waters Of S%piceberry Creek were swirl
ing with merry music around the
a!gnarled tree-roots and ~moss-covered
Doulders that obtruded themselves
across its current.
The wild clematis and rank fox-grape
vines that had wreathed themselves
pictncsquoly above the deserted
clarcoal-burncr's cabin were fluttering
sbS'A NioAAip La III lllOllllllS DICCLSs
and the fire OF dead sticks was cracking
bravely under u huge kettle, where
Miss ltayforth's second tubful Of clothes
was already boiling like Il witch's
cauldron.
For she and Clara Seton, her room
mate at college, had come up here
before the dawn had unfurlcd its pearly
banners, kindled their fire and gone
brtycly to work. 4ys
Doesn't it seem ridiculous 2" said
Rosamond, as she sorted out half a
dozen or SO Of sheer linen pocket
handkerchief, and plunged them up
and down in the b%luing-pail. "Last
night, yon and | were w2ltzing Ill the
ballroom with those two young army
officers; this morning we are getting
out L wash. Just hand mo Il few of
those clothos-plns, Clara, please | How
romance and reality do jostlc ono
another in this world, to-be-sure /!
These ll%andkerchiefs will dry directly,
the sun touches them, and then wo can
have the lines for the large articles.
Are you sure the starch. isn't lumpy,
Clara ? Miss Cayendish is 40 very
Particular about her lawn wrappers.
And how arc the irons heating up %
Clara Seton, WHO had just fms he'd
coiling up her inky-black hair, and had
transixod it with u long shell pin,
pecpcd into al impromptu furnace OF
charcoal that glowcd under the slope Of
& prodigious rock, before which half q
dozen tiatirons were set OH end"
They'll be in prime order in half IN
hour said she. "Do you suppose,
Rosy. they'll be there tonight again %
''rho fl~atirons?"
"No, the army officers"
Most likely" said Rosamond, with
4 clothcs-pin in her mouth. as she stood
on tiptoe to..hang a runlcd pctticoat to
The breeze. II heard them ask Flora
Foster if we wore staying at the Noun
tain iIouso.n
"Oh, did you? And what did she
say ~
ISLE said she believed we were camp
ing out somewhere"
$50 wo are,'' said Clara, laughing.
and slio added-the dear gossipy
lite thing THAT we were artists, who
spout most Of our time in sketching.
There, Clara, tho clothes-lines are full
at last. Won adjourn long enough to
drink II cold coffee and cat somo
bread and milk. Oh ycsl we're camp
ing out---thero can't DO any mistake
about that" she went on, with a laugh,
as tho two girls sat down in the shade
81 Tie hazel bushes to partake Of their
simple morning meal. ".But 1 often
wo'idcr what the Mountain House